


Into Her Dreams

by LiraelClayr007



Series: My 31 Days of Ficmas [15]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Childhood Memories, Dancing, Elves, F/M, Not a Crossover, The Lord of the Rings References, traveling in the TARDIS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 10:38:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13029279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiraelClayr007/pseuds/LiraelClayr007
Summary: “Are there any planets like Middle Earth?”Rose is perched on a conveniently located ledge, feet kicking aimlessly, and Doctor is half under the TARDIS console while they spin through the Time Vortex.“Middle Earth? You mean Hobbits and Elves and Ents and the like?” He isn’t quite making fun of her, but she can tell he is amused.“You got a problem with Tolkien?” she says, maybe a bit too defensively.“No, no, Tolkien’s brilliant! Had tea with him a few times, as a matter of fact.”





	Into Her Dreams

“Are there any planets like Middle Earth?”

Rose is perched on a conveniently located ledge, feet kicking aimlessly, and Doctor is half under the TARDIS console while they spin through the Time Vortex.

“Middle Earth? You mean Hobbits and Elves and Ents and the like?” He isn’t quite making fun of her, but she can tell he is amused.

“You got a problem with Tolkien?” she says, maybe a bit too defensively.

“No, no, Tolkien’s brilliant! Had tea with him a few times, as a matter of fact.”

She waits. When he doesn’t go on, she finally--trying not to sound too eager--says, “So? Are there?”

He laughs, sliding out from under the console and sitting up to look at her. “Well, there’s Godnor.”

“Wait,  _ God _ nor? Like  _ Gon _ dor? _ Really? _ ” She is incredulous.

He rubs his hand on the back of his neck. “It’s possible I may have inadvertently suggested a few things,” he says sheepishly. “I rambled about Godnor one day over a cuppa. Godnor, giant eagles, walking trees... Next thing I know I’m reading about Middle Earth. Go figure.”

She can hardly contain her delight. “You  _ have  _ to take me there. Please? The TARDIS has to have some suitable clothes for meeting elves...or whatever they’re actually called.” She bites her lower lip, eyes pleading.

He can’t say no when she looks at him like that. Not that he’d planned to say no anyway.

* * *

Rose has stepped onto many new worlds. She’s stepped into the ancient past and the distant future; she’s even stepped into her  _ own  _ past. She spent what felt like an eternity hopping between actual universes, searching for the doctor. But until today she’s never felt so much like she was stepping into a dream.

Godnor is her dream.

It’s her childhood dream: a forest of impossibly tall trees with fluttering yellow leaves at the foot of a mountainside dotted with buildings that are so perfectly in tune with their surroundings they look like they grew right out of the rock. She gasps, her hand fluttering in the direction of the mountain city. “It’s Rivendell! Doctor, it’s actually  _ Rivendell! _ It’s just how I always pictured it!” She grabs the Doctor by the hands and spins them both in a circle, laughing with pure delight. The wide skirt of her medieval style dress flares around them, the deep russet red a perfect contrast with the yellow leaves under their feet.

She stops their spin and smiles up at him, her face flushed. “This is...Doctor, this is fantastic. It feels like  _ magic _ .” He grins and links his arm through her hers.

“Doctor Magician, at your service,” he says with a wink.

* * *

The Doctor leans against the doorway of the wardrobe room, watching Rose lace up a pair of sturdy boots. “You sure these are okay?” she asks.

“Your dress covers your feet. Trust me, you don’t want to be hiking in flimsy sandals. It’s a world of forests and mountains. We’re not going to be carrying the One Ring to Mount Doom--no, there is no Mount Doom on Godnor--but we travel by foot or by horseback. Either way you’ll want boots.”

He pauses, watching her again. It’s times like this, these tiny moments, that he can’t believe how lucky he is to have this life with his Rose. He loves every bit of it--the new worlds, the “run for your life,”  _ and  _ the quiet moments. He may have lost the ability to regenerate, but he’d gained a lifetime with Rose.

Snapping back to the present, he quirks his head sideways; Rose sees and answers his unasked question. “Remember our walk through the park last weekend?” He nods. “There were two girls, nine or ten years old, sitting against a tree and reading a book together. They were completely absorbed in the story, they didn’t even notice when a group of boys ran past and nearly stepped on them. It took me back…” She sits back, pulling her knees to her chest, the long skirt of her dress fanning out around her. “The summer I was ten years old a girl and her dad moved into the flat below Mum and me. Her name was Julia. Jools. She was a quiet thing, exactly the opposite of me. But we somehow fit. Some days I dragged her outside and made her get into trouble, some days she made me stay inside and we’d watch movies or draw or bake cookies, quiet things. One day when I got to her flat I found her curled up on her bed with a battered paperback.”

“ _ The Fellowship of the Ring _ ?” guesses the Doctor.

Rose smiles. “Actually it was  _ The Return of the King _ . But after she talked about it for a few minutes, her face so bright...Her dad started reading them with her before she even knew what books were, and he kept reading through them again and again, once a year, every year. She loved those books, I could tell that from the sparkle in her eyes. It wasn’t long before  _ The Fellowship of the Ring _ was out and we were reading it together. It took weeks, but we read all three books. Sometimes we’d take turns reading aloud to each other, sometimes we sat next to each other, heads together, saying ‘done’ when we reached the end of a the page. We read in our bedrooms, at our kitchen tables, outside on the steps, at the park. When we needed a break from sitting--usually me more than her--we played at being hobbits or elves or sometimes even orcs. We made up tunes and sang the elven songs. Every day was an adventure.”

The Doctor can hardly believe what he’s hearing. It’s no wonder she fell so perfectly into step with him all those years ago. She’d been looking for someone to take her hand and say “Run!” for years.

“Rose--” he starts to say, but she cuts him off, again answering his question before he asks.

“She moved away before Christmas, that same year,” she says, a single tear tracing down her cheek. “I never saw her again.”

“I’m so sorry, Rose,” he says quietly, sliding down the wall so he’s sitting next to her.

She rests her head on his shoulder. “Me too. But even though I stopped having sword fights in the kitchen, I still read the books every year. And seeing those two girls in the park…” She sighs, although not unhappily. “I often wonder what happened to her, what her life is like now. I wish I could tell her about you, and about the TARDIS, she’d love all this. But mostly I’m just glad I met her, you know?”

He knows.

* * *

They are nearly to the edge of the mountain city when locals come to greet them. “Welcome! You’re here for autumn festival?” asks a tall blond woman with pointy ears and an ethereal smile.

Rose can barely contain her glee.

“Oh yes!” says the Doctor. They chat as they walk out of the trees and into the Rose’s imagination. She has to blink several times before she’s convinced it’s real. 

They’ve been calling it a city, but it’s not like any kind of modern city Rose has ever seen. The buildings are all arches and parapets and towers, built right into the side of the mountain, and many of them are connected by narrow bridges high above their heads. The stone practically glows in the light of the setting sun. And even though it is autumn--even if their escort hadn’t told them about the autumn festival, the golden leaves on the trees and the slight nip in the air would have given it away--there are still flowers growing everywhere. Gold and red and orange and brown and every shade in between spilling from window boxes, sprouting from vines climbing the sides of buildings, at the base of every tree and along every path. Even some of the trees are spilling flower petals as well as leaves.

And then there are the elves.

They aren’t really elves, of course, that’s just what Tolkien called them. But she can’t help but think of them that way. They are impossibly beautiful, and so full of joy; Rose feels lighter inside just being in their presence.

And when they see the visitors they smile brightly and introduce themselves; they offer food and drink and it isn’t long before Rose is whisked away from the Doctor into a colorful riot of twirling skirts and stamping feet, harmonizing voices echoing back at them off the mountainside.

* * *

Rose isn’t sure how long the music lasts, but it feels like days later when she finds herself sitting on a bench beside the Doctor, breathless, her sweat-dampened hair sticking to her neck.

“Doctor,” she says, squeezing his hand, “I was dancing. With  _ elves _ .” Her eyes, wide with excitement--and the wonder of her ten year old self--reflect the starlight.

“Well, technically you’ve been dancing with the Sky Singers of Godnor, but, well, close enough.” He grins at her. “Good trip?”

In answer she captures his lips with hers.

**Author's Note:**

> 31 Days of Ficmas || Day 15: Elves
> 
> (Yes, I am fully aware that most people, when they have the prompt "Santa and/or Elves" will not jump to Tolkien. But I'm a giant nerd. I hear "elves" I think "LOTR". ;)


End file.
